A dVerse Theory That Is Rather Eerie!
Today for dVerse we will converse in the conspiracy theory talk. Come now, don't balk. It is not about aliens and such. Those you have heard too much. This is one you do not know that I have uncovered at my show.
It's the conspiracy of the clock,
With its annoying tick tock.
The thing is there,
That you are aware.
But why you ask?
To keep you on task?
That is smoke and a mirror.
Things need to be clearer.
It was invented by a fool,
That thought it was cool,
To make you sit and watch,
Until you could throw back the scotch.
Meaning when work was through.
But much more came due.
Something unexpected,
That has been neglected.
I bet you are thinking now.
This will really wow.
It is quite the embrace,
Right in front of your face.
Lost in thought,
About my plot?
Fingers and toes,
Ready to come to blows?
See, they've got to you,
With the clock in view.
Before it would just pop in.
No longer at your bin.
Now instead,
You scratch your head,
Trying to figure it out.
Come now, don't pout.
I will soon reveal all,
About the clock on the wall.
To enlighten you,
At your zoo.
It lowers your IQ,
Each clock at your zoo.
You can't count past twelve.
Now this conspiracy I shelve.
See, how they have gotten to thee? You are stuck from one to twelve each day. Unless in the military, then go away. You get double that, counting to twenty four makes you really smart at your mat. So bury the clocks in the grass so your brain can grow in mass and not be filled with gas, like what comes out my little rhyming ass.
Later all, have a nice fall.
It's the conspiracy of the clock,
With its annoying tick tock.
The thing is there,
That you are aware.
But why you ask?
To keep you on task?
That is smoke and a mirror.
Things need to be clearer.
It was invented by a fool,
That thought it was cool,
To make you sit and watch,
Until you could throw back the scotch.
Meaning when work was through.
But much more came due.
Something unexpected,
That has been neglected.
I bet you are thinking now.
This will really wow.
It is quite the embrace,
Right in front of your face.
Lost in thought,
About my plot?
Fingers and toes,
Ready to come to blows?
See, they've got to you,
With the clock in view.
Before it would just pop in.
No longer at your bin.
Now instead,
You scratch your head,
Trying to figure it out.
Come now, don't pout.
I will soon reveal all,
About the clock on the wall.
To enlighten you,
At your zoo.
It lowers your IQ,
Each clock at your zoo.
You can't count past twelve.
Now this conspiracy I shelve.
See, how they have gotten to thee? You are stuck from one to twelve each day. Unless in the military, then go away. You get double that, counting to twenty four makes you really smart at your mat. So bury the clocks in the grass so your brain can grow in mass and not be filled with gas, like what comes out my little rhyming ass.
Later all, have a nice fall.
Published on December 03, 2013 03:00
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